


Desperate

by jhoono



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Eridan's POV, M/M, Non-Consensual Somnophilia, Other, Pale Porn, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance, Papsturbation, Second Person, Somnophilia, Unreliable Narrator, Unrequited pale pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-12
Updated: 2016-05-12
Packaged: 2018-06-07 23:09:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6828997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jhoono/pseuds/jhoono
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You know it’s not right to do what you’re doing to Karkat. You know that you’re not in a quadrant, and that he’s starting to seem more and more annoyed by your increasingly frequent sleepovers at his hive, but you just can’t help yourself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Desperate

**Author's Note:**

> in case it was not VERY CLEAR. this fanfic describes a nonconsensual scene. karkat has NO idea that eridan is doing this. (do not be eridan, obviously. i do not condone these actions. ask your buddy before you pap off in front of their sleeping body.)

You know it’s not right to do what you’re doing to Karkat. You know that you’re not in a quadrant, and that he’s starting to seem more and more annoyed by your increasingly frequent sleepovers at his hive, but you just can’t help yourself.

It’s too hard to stay composed when you’re tempted every time the two of you talk online, when his hive is heated and relatively small and everything yours is not. It’s hard to resist the urge not to spend every night sitting with him, complaining about whatever things come to mind and listening when he does the same. It’s so fucking hard when he puts a hand on your shoulder because you’ve raised your voice because it feels so good, it has no right to feel as good as it does but you’re always left reeling with it.

You’re guilty the entire time you hatch your plan. If you’re careful, you should be able to pull this off with no trouble at all, and you should be able to work through your feelings peacefully. If you’re not, and Karkat is alerted of what you’re doing, you should be able to hide and avoid any issues. In a worst case scenario, you can at least know not to hope anymore because any chances at romance will be lost forever.

You took note of how easy Karkat was to wake the last time you stayed over, reaching into his recuperacoon with trembling fingers to pull one of his arms out of the slime. The poor fool was so sleep deprived he barely budged, and for all that it overwhelmed you with pity it was also a damn relief.

You can trust that he won’t know what happened.

He’s so cute tucked away in the slime, head tilted forward to give him a little double chin. You had assured him before he curled in that you would be fine, that you’d slept already and he needed the rest more than you did. It’s not entirely true. Though he does need the sleep, you’ve not slept for a good long while, kept awake by excitement and anticipation. Everything is going to fall into place.

Karkat smacks his lips a little when you take hold of his left arm, your shirt removed to keep the incriminating slime from staining your clothing. He’s topless too, and it makes visualizing so much easier as you lift his limp arm from the slime, resting it over the edge of the ‘coon. So far, so good.

You run your cold fingers up and down your body, starting at your pectoral muscles and stopping above the hem of your pants, shivering as you try to imagine a warmer touch. Slime is trailed along your skin, and it tingles as you imagine you’re surrounded in it too, squeezed inside of the almost-too-small recuperacoon with Karkat, naked bodies pressed flush against one another. Your breath hitches as you watch him breathe, taking hold of his wrist when his arm threatens to slip back into the ‘coon without you.

Like he’d get away that easily.

You lean in enough to have his limp fingertips track lime green across your cheek, breaths coming in shallow from some unholy blend of nerves and excitement. It already has your knees shaking, and you’re just teasing yourself. You close your eyes as you press his palm flat against your face, sliding it down to your jaw. His fingers are warm, they’re so blessedly warm, and you can feel the tension in your body easing already. You don’t know just what it is that makes Karkat’s touch so perfect, but you don’t doubt that the reason you’re so affected is in part because of your sort of pathetic hunger for contact.

Would Karkat pity you if he knew how much you ached for him? You like to think he would.

It’s definitely not hard to visualize when you have his hand pressed against your cheek, unconsciously pacifying you.

“Shoosh,” you croon to yourself, moving Karkat’s hand against your cheek, papsturbating with his body. This is disgusting. You are disgusting for loving this as much as you do.

_“You’re not disgusting,”_ you can almost visualize Karkat saying, _“you’re lonely and starved for contact. It’s okay.”_

Yes, god, fuck yes, Karkat’s right, you need this, you need him to do this to you. You shoosh the open air again, rubbing your cheek against the hand you’re holding in place to defile.

You swallow back the salty taste in the back of your throat, letting the Karkat you’ve fabricated comfort you. _“I know you, Eridan, I know you wouldn’t do this if you didn’t have to.”_

Like fuck would you ever betray his trust like this. But you do have to, it’s a need by this point, it’s transcended the boundaries of a tolerable twinge to a constant burning pain in your chest, right in your pusher. You’ve started to purr, a desperate sound that you try to stifle by sinking your teeth into your cheeks until you taste blood, but you can’t stop now that you’ve learned how it feels to have Karkat pap you. It’s too fucking much to handle, it’s so much, but you can’t stop, you wouldn’t stop if you could.

_“You really_ have _had it hard, haven’t you?”_ you can hear him murmur as you play his hot fingertips over the frills of your fin, eyes reluctantly fluttering open to make sure he’s not stirring. No, he’s still out cold. Back to fantasizing. _”You poor, poor thing. You’ve earned this. I’m yours.”_

In the back of your mind you sincerely doubt Karkat would ever say anything like that, but this is _your_ fantasy, damn it, and you’re not going to let something as stupid as logic deter you from what you want. 

Your breath hitches as you continue to bring his hand over your fin again and again, running your other hand up and down your chest. He’s so peaceful when he’s asleep, not a hint of that usual anger or reluctance. You wish he let himself get more rest. Would he, given an incentive? If you promised to join him when he tucked himself in, would he be a little less hesitant to treat himself well?

“Shhh,” you offer yourself one last time, legs shaking almost too terribly to stay up as Karkat continues his relentless touching, overwhelming you with waves of pure, unadulterated pity and bliss. You use his palm to wipe away the tears streaming down your cheeks (pathetic, you’re pathetic for this), kissing at his unmoving fingertips as you shiver and try to force yourself to feel this high for as long as you can before the guilt sets in. You nudge his arm and it falls into the slime again. He looks just like he did when you found him, absolutely stunning. You, on the other hand, must look like a disgusting mess, covered in tears and snot and sopor slime. Still, your pusher’s hard pace has slowed in your chest. You feel guilt, but even that is nothing compared to your relief.

You slip out of Karkat’s block with no grace whatsoever, still shivering from the papout. That is so happening again.

**Author's Note:**

> to my friends and family: i'm sorry.


End file.
